


Between the Shadow and the Soul

by opalheart12



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: F/M, Graduate School, Lightly Scandalous Relationship, Professor Ichabod Crane, TA Abbie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2019-11-15 06:09:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18068030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/opalheart12/pseuds/opalheart12
Summary: It turned out that the professor she was TAing for this semester was not some old, wrinkly, cantankerous white guy. Well, he was white, but he was also unspeakably gorgeous and had a voice that made her want to melt. He had a mouth that had the uncanny ability to make her switch from English to the Spanish she had spent the last ten plus years learning as part of her work studying literature and cultural studies. His hands...gods above, those hands had the ability to make her feel like her skin was on fire in all the best ways. And she only knew all these things because she’d just fucked him two nights ago.





	1. Chapter 1

_**"It is obvious that we can no more explain a passion to a person who has never experienced it than we can explain light to the blind."** _  


_**T.S. Eliot** _

* * *

 

It turned out that the professor she was TAing for this semester was _not_ some old, wrinkly, cantankerous white guy. Well, he was white, but he was also unspeakably gorgeous and had a voice that made her want to melt. He had a mouth that had the uncanny ability to make her switch from English to the Spanish she had spent the last ten plus years learning as part of her work studying literature and cultural studies. His hands...gods above, those hands had the ability to make her feel like her skin was on fire in all the best ways. And she only knew all these things because she’d just fucked him two nights ago.

 

“Oh, shit.” She breathed out when she walked into the classroom. “You gotta be kidding me.”

 

Other students filed into the large classroom, the overachievers rushed to the front and the slackers were already taking their places in the back. The professor was sitting on the desk at the front of the classroom, face buried in a book she couldn’t clearly see the title of.

 

He was wearing a perfectly tailored navy blue suit and chestnut brown dress shoes that she was certain probably cost more than the rent for her apartment in three months. His chocolate brown hair was perfectly styled. His beard was neatly trimmed and his cerulean eyes flitted across the pages of his book with a nearly unbreakable focus. Unlike the night she’d met him, he was wearing round tortoiseshell glasses that slid down his nose anytime he dipped his head too far into his book.

 

Her eyes cast a cursory glance to the clock on the wall. Five minutes until class started. She was going to have to introduce herself before he began lecturing. She walked quickly down the stairs and came to stand in front of him.

 

“Good morning, Dr. Crane.”

 

Her voice was quiet but he heard her anyway. He quickly marked his place in his book and looked up to see who had spoken to him. She would be lying if she said she didn’t take at least a little pleasure in seeing all the color drain from his face. He swallowed visibly and her eyes flickered down when she saw his fingers begin twitching nervously against his thighs.

 

“Abbie?” He breathed out. “You...you’re a student?” A somewhat horrified expression took residence on his face and it actually made her laugh.

 

“A grad student, yes. I’m also your TA for this class.” She smiled at him goodnaturedly. “Abbie _Mills_ , by the way. We didn’t really have time to exchange pleasantries the _first_ time we met.”

 

Dr. Crane looked like a fish out of water. Abbie shook her head slightly as she laughed to herself. There was only a minute now until class started. She smiled at him again and went to the seat on the end of the first row that was blessedly empty.

 

“Good morning. Welcome to Poetry 2195. I am Dr. Ichabod Crane and I consider it my pleasure to be your professor this semester.” His accent dripped from every word and Abbie, not unlike some of the other students in the class, found herself sitting up a little straighter.

 

Dr. Crane walked away from the desk and began to pace before the students, his azure eyes taking in each and every one of them. Eventually, he came back to the center and stood there.

 

“I would like to begin class today by reciting for you a quote from T. S. Eliot: ‘Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion; it is not the expression of personality, but an escape from personality. But, of course, only those who have personality and emotions know what it means to want to escape from these things.’ Would someone care to tell me how they interpret that?”  

 

The classroom was silent. Most of the students murmured quietly to themselves and some shrank down in their seats. Abbie’s hand shot into the air out of habit and she almost regretted it.

 

“Ah, our TA has volunteered to tell us! Class, this is my teaching assistant and one of the people who will be grading your assignments this semester: Abbie Mills. Now, Ms. Mills, what is your interpretation of Eliot’s quote?” His eyes narrowed playfully at her and a vague smile was pulling at the corners of his mouth.

 

Abbie took a second to breathe deeply and stood from her seat to face the students. She was never very self-conscious but she found herself feeling it a bit as she stood in front of so many scrutinizing eyes. She was wearing a cream colored turtleneck and a maroon suede skirt. Though she was rather short, she wore black leather ankle boots that made her come to Dr. Crane’s shoulders. Her dark brown curly hair, newly twisted out, framed her face perfectly. She wore the barest hints of makeup: eyeliner, mascara, and lip gloss. _You got this_ , she told herself. _Start talking_.

 

“I think Eliot is wrong, Dr. Crane.”

 

A shocked chorus of whispers rustled through the students and Abbie smiled to herself as she noticed Dr. Crane’s raised eyebrow. “How so?”

 

“Poetry is not an either-or expression of anything. It’s a way to let go of the things you feel and experience while experiencing them simultaneously. How can it not be both an expression of personality _and_ an escape from it? How can it not be both getting rid of emotion _and_ escaping it?” Abbie asked. Some of the students appeared interested in what she was saying. “Poetry is quite possibly the oldest subjective artform in human history. It’s how we remember different cultures and how we understand what those cultures valued, feared, loved, and hated. It doesn’t have to be an escape from the most essential aspects of who we are.”

 

She felt her face grow warm when a few of the students clapped and she sat down feeling rather satisfied with her answer. Dr. Crane gazed at her with such intensity that she thought her insides might melt.

 

“Very good, Ms. Mills. Anyone else?” It seemed like it took a great effort for him to drag his eyes away from her. A few more students offered their interpretation of the quote. All the while, Abbie was staring intently at Dr. Crane as he moved around the room. Her mouth was getting dry the longer she stared at him.

 

Suddenly, her mind conjured the image of him from the night they had met. They were in the small cramped bathroom of the Twisted Sister nightclub and his lips were on her neck as his hands traversed her body, making her skin burn pleasantly. She blinked and realized her mouth was open slightly. Dr. Crane glanced at her curiously as she sucked down half of the water bottle she’d brought with her.

 

When the class was over and the last student had left, Dr. Crane turned to her. “My office, if you please.”

 

“Sure. I’ll meet you there.” Abbie left the classroom and power walked to the small café outside the building. After practically inhaling the grande vanilla latte she’d ordered, she began to make her way across the quad.

 

Dr. Crane’s office was on the fourth floor of Irving Hall and at the very back of the building. He had a suite to himself. There was a lounge area with an old leather sofa and pillows that looked as if they’d been to it and through it. There was a large area rug on the floor that looked soft enough for Abbie’s feet to sink into. There was a small cart with a Keurig and microwave on it and a minifridge beside it. It didn’t seem like the lounge lights had been used in ages if all the lamps were anything to go by. Dr. Crane’s office door was open and she walked inside.

 

The office was much like the lounge area, but there was a large floor-to-ceiling window with a thick curtain pulled back to let in the sunlight and there were plants. Everywhere. Abbie could see that every surface of wall was covered with an overflowing bookshelf or posters from old concerts or artwork. His desk was piled with papers and books and his laptop seemed to get lost in it. Dr. Crane was sitting in the chair behind his desk, taking things out of the bag she’d seen him bring with him to the class.

 

“Would you mind closing both doors please, Ms. Mills?” Crane asked absently as he attempted to gather the papers into neat piles and clear space on his desk. Abbie did as he asked and came back to sit in one of the plush armchairs in front of his desk.

 

“So, what did you wanna see me about?” Abbie asked.

 

He didn’t reply until he’d finished organizing the papers. “I wished to speak with you about our... _prior_ encounter. Perhaps you should request to TA for someone else.”

 

Abbie shrugged. “Why? There aren’t any other posts available and if you think I can’t keep things professional between us then you don’t know me very well.”

 

“I _don’t_ know you very well, Abbie.”

 

“You could.”

 

The office was silent as she stared him down with a devious smirk on her face. He blinked a few times and sighed as he stood up an came around to sit on the desk facing her. He was so close that she could smell him. The smell made her think of his arms around her as they’d danced at the club. She usually hated dancing with guys she didn’t know but they’d talked for almost an hour at the bar as they lamented being put on drink duty for their friends and being the designated drivers of their respective groups.

 

“I don’t think that would be very wise.”

 

Abbie tried to hide the way that stung her a bit. Her smirk faltered slightly and she nodded to herself. “That’s fine. E-mail me your grading expectations and the syllabus so I can add exam dates and essay due dates to my calendar.” She stood and gathered her belongings. Dr. Crane had an unreadable expression on his face. Was it disappointment? Had he expected her to beg him to get to know her?

 

She was about to open the door when his voice stopped her. “I said it would not be wise, Abbie, not that I do not wish to.”

 

Abbie smiled to herself and turned around to face him. “That’s more like it.”


	2. Chapter 2

_**"First you take a drink, then the drink takes a drink, then the drink takes you."** _

_**F. Scott Fitzgerald** _

* * *

 

TWO NIGHTS AGO…

 

_ Abbie hadn’t been out with her girls since before Danny had dumped her. She had been buried in her research, working herself ragged in hopes it would make her forget the pain of Danny leaving her for one of his coworkers. They’d been together five years. She had always thought that he would be the one she married, the one she had children with, the one she would be with for the rest of her life. But she was wrong. _

 

_ “Come on, girl, your dissertation isn’t going anywhere! You’re almost done with it anyway and you need a break!” Sophie Foster, her best friend and roommate, was presently attempting to pry her away from her desk. Abbie’s body felt sore and tense from being hunched over a desk all day. Even she couldn’t deny that getting out of her room for a bit would do her some good. _

 

_ “I know its been like six months but it still hurts, you know?” Abbie said as she went to sit on her bed. Sophie gave her a kind smile and walked over to her closet where she promptly began rifling through it.  _

 

_ “Yeah, I know, Abs. And THAT’S why we’re going out tonight! You deserve to live a little before the semester starts anyway. You got your TA assignment yet?” Sophie’s voice was muffled in the closet but Abbie heard her all the same.  _

 

_ “Not yet. They’re taking forever to tell me but I should know by the first day of classes. What are you doing in there, Soph?” Abbie asked. She tried to peer into the closet but only saw her clothes flying everywhere.  _

 

_ Sophie huffed in response and then came out holding a yellow dress Abbie hadn’t seen in over a year. “Found it! This is what you’re wearing tonight. I’m gonna call Luke and see if he wants to come with. Jenny’s probably meeting us there. Start getting ready!”  _

 

_ Abbie stared after her as she raced from the room. Sophie and Luke had been together for almost a year now but it always felt longer to Abbie. The two of them fit together perfectly and always seemed to know what the other wanted and needed without words being needed. A part of Abbie was jealous of this. Sophie and Luke hardly ever fought and when they did it was resolved quickly and with mind-blowing sex, as Sophie had once told her.  She had wished her relationship with Danny was like that. _

 

_ Music from Sophie’s room began thumping through the walls and Abbie took this as her cue to start getting ready. She started with a long shower and graduated to straightening her hair when she got out. After, she pulled on the yellow off-shoulder dress, smiling appreciatively at how good she looked in it. She paired it with red chunky heels and lipstick that matched.  _

_ “Damn, girl!” Sophie whistled from the doorway.  _

 

_ Abbie spun around quickly and smiled. “It looks good, right?” _

 

_ “Girl, you are going to be beating people off you with a stick tonight!”  _

 

_ She laughed in response and shook her head. “I doubt it, girl.” _

_ She was sitting at the bar watching her friends dance with their significant others when he sat down next to her. She was sipping water with lemon since she’d volunteered herself the designated driver for the evening. The old her would have hated that but new post-Danny Abbie was fine with it. She definitely didn’t need alcohol complicating anything.  _

 

_ The man next to her was wearing dark jeans, probably black, with a navy blue dress shirt and black ankle boots. He was tall. As fuck. She could see that even while he was sitting down. His dark brown hair was styled out of his face and he had goring azure eyes that looked very much at home behind his tortoiseshell glasses.  _

 

_ “Are you on babysitting duty too?” Abbie asked as she turned to him. He jumped slightly as if he couldn’t believe she was even talking to him. When he finally realized that she was indeed talking to him his eyes widened slightly and she noticed his jaw go slack.  _

 

_ “Unfortunately, yes. My friends are currently drinking themselves into an early grave. I was sent to retrieve their fifth round of drinks but I believe they can wait.” He had a British accent. A proper British accent. Abbie cocked her head to the side slightly as she tried to place it. Oxford if she had to guess.  _

 

_ Abbie smiled at him. “Been there. Thankfully, my friends are only on their second round but are too preoccupied with their significant others to realize they sent me for drinks twenty minutes ago.” _

 

_ The man smiled wryly in response. “And has your significant other noticed it’s been twenty minutes since you were sent for drinks?” _

 

_ Her smile faltered slightly and the man's eyes flashed briefly as he noticed the change in her demeanor. He immediately wished he hadn’t asked. She took a deep breath and the smile was back, though it looked a bit more hollow now. “I would have to actually  _ have _ a significant other for that to be the case,” She stuck her hand out toward him. “I’m Abbie by the way.”  _

 

_ He took her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it as if it might break apart if he applied too much pressure. Abbie felt a shock of electricity shoot up her arm and she looked at him to see if he'd felt it too. The man smiled and his eyes held the barest hint of smugness. “A pleasure to meet you, Abbie. I’m Crane.” _

 

_ Abbie frowned playfully. “Your name is ‘Crane’? That’s what your parents decided to roll with?” She took a long sip of her water as she waited for him to answer.  _

 

_ “No, it’s my last name. My first name is even more horrid so I go by my last name.” He replied.  _

 

_ “Crane,” Abbie tested the name on her tongue and found that she liked it. “Crane. Well, it’s nice to meet you, Crane.”  _

 

_ He raised his own cup of water toward hers for a toast. “To babysitting. And meeting beautiful people at the bar."  _

 

_ Crane's eyes felt as if they were probing her soul. Her hair stood on end in the most pleasant way. She noticed that he hadn't let go of her hand and realized she was fine with that. She used her free hand to raise her cup to his. _

 

_ “To babysitting and meeting beautiful people at the bar." _


	3. Chapter 3

_**"Laughter and tears are both responses to frustration and exhaustion. I myself prefer to** _ **laugh,** _**since there is less cleaning up to do afterward."** _   
  


_**Kurt Vonnegut** _

* * *

 

The first few weeks went by relatively quickly. Abbie hardly had any time to think about her and Dr. Crane’s prior acquaintance. It seemed to have no effect on their professional relationship just yet and for that she was thankful. She was busy trying to put the finishing touches on her dissertation since she was due to defend it the next semester and graduate. But it was not until a particularly trying day when Abbie couldn’t focus to save her life that she and Crane had another interaction outside of Poetry 2195.

 

Abbie was sitting in the cafe outside the library crying silently as she shut her laptop. She had been working on a particularly difficult chapter in her dissertation for days now. No matter how hard she tried she couldn’t make her argument as cohesive as she wanted. The sources were not coming together the way she needed and she was convinced she might need to cut the chapter out that she’d worked so hard on altogether. She was packing her bag when a shadow passed over the table. She looked up and saw Ichabod Crane in all his professory glory peering down at her with concern in his eyes. He was wearing a maroon sweater, dark jeans, his usual black boots, and a dark leather jacket today. His hair, as always, was styled out of his face.

 

“Ms. Mills, are you quite alright?” He asked. 

 

Abbie quickly wiped her eyes and nodded. “Yep. Just fine! I was actually just leaving.” She forcefully shoved her laptop into her bag and snatched the zipper shut. Crane’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. She sniffed again and closed her eyes tightly as a fresh wave of tears stung at her eyes. 

 

“My office, if you please.” He replied. Abbie looked up at him, slightly confused. He raised an eyebrow and smiled shyly. “Quickly.”

 

She nodded quietly. “Sure. But, I wanna get some coffee first if that’s ok.” 

 

“Certainly. If you’ll allow me to purchase it for you. You seem to be having a rough day already.” His eyes twinkled kindly at her. She felt the need to argue, to say that no, she really didn’t need him to do that, but his eyes turned her insides to mush and she decided against it.

 

A few minutes later, vanilla latte in hand, they walked into his office suite. Abbie sat on the sofa while Crane pulled one of the chairs from his office into the lounge area. She sipped at her coffee carefully, her mind feeling as if it was racing a mile a minute. 

 

“Might I ask what causes you such distress, Abbie?” Crane was sitting almost directly in front of her. She looked up at him from her drink and found herself at a loss for words. They barely knew each other. She was his TA. Why would he even care what she was going through? 

 

“Might I ask why it matters to you so much?” Abbie asked with a bit more venom than she intended. She narrowed her eyes slightly as he briefly flinched. “We don’t...we don’t need to do all this kumbaya shit, you know? Thanks for the coffee, really, but I’m fine.” It would have been more convincing if her voice hadn’t cracked toward the end. 

 

She wasn’t wild about revealing her feelings to anyone, let alone people she made out with in a club bathroom that she later fucked in their car. But something about Crane was different. He didn’t remind her of how they met each other. He never was unprofessional with her. He seemed to care about her general state of being. And that meant something to her.

 

“I care because, not long ago, I was a doctoral candidate at nearly the end of my program stressed beyond belief and I had bad days. Are you having a bad day, Abbie?” His tone wasn’t mocking or patronizing. He wasn’t asking out of any weird sense of obligation. He really did care. 

 

She looked up at him, at the genuine concern in his eyes, and felt tears sting her eyes again. She cursed outwardly to herself and folded. “Yes.” When Abbie would look back on this moment later, she would laugh at how easily she was able to admit that to him. “A really shitty, terrible day.” 

 

“What is the cause?” He asked.

 

Abbie stood up in frustration and growled to herself. “This stupid fucking dissertation! I’ve been stuck on this chapter almost two weeks and it feels like nothing I do makes it better and I might have to cut it but I  _ can’t  _ because it’s one of the most essential ones! I’m up to my eyes in sources and I have to give a rough draft of the dissertation to my advisor by the end of the semester! How the fuck can I do that if I can’t finish this one chapter?!” She was pacing around the lounge area now and closed the door with something slightly less than a slam. Her fingers stretched and flexed with anxiousness and vexation as she spoke. 

 

Crane watched her carefully. He recognized everything she was feeling. He’d been in her exact position not three years ago. He remembered feeling inept, like he shouldn’t have even been in grad school at all. He remembered feeling more stressed than any one person should feel. He remembered the feeling of impending doom that always seemed to be upon him. 

 

“Would you like me to offer any solutions or would you prefer I just listen?” Crane asked. 

 

Abbie stopped pacing, her head cocked sideways as she considered what he asked. “Uh...I don’t know?” There wasn’t any sarcasm or exasperation in his voice. That was clear. “I guess...both?” 

 

Yes, she did need to vent and let off some steam. Sophie and Jenny were great, but Sophie was working for the FBI now and Jenny was rarely in town lately since she was an art dealer for some private firm. Luke was cool, but Abbie really only talked to him if Sophie was around. She supposed she could call Joe but with him being stationed in Staten Island for the Navy there was no guarantee he would answer. And she definitely wasn’t calling her parents. She supposed Crane would have to do.

 

Crane gestured for her to sit on the sofa again and Abbie resisted the urge to roll her eyes in the last vestiges of frustration she was feeling. She allowed a long-suffering sigh to escape her as she felt a tension headache beginning to form. 

 

“Every graduate student, regardless of their study and concentration, feels what you are not, Abbie. It’s hardly unheard of. The important thing is that you know when to take time away from the work.”

 

“How the hell do I do that? I don’t even remember what it’s like to have a life outside this shit except when--” Abbie stopped short and her eyes found Crane’s as she was bombarded rather suddenly with another memory from the night they met. She felt the ghost of the cramp she’d gotten in her thigh from riding him in his car. If she closed her eyes she could practically feel his hands on her waist squeezing gently as he groaned in pleasure beneath her. Her breath hitched in her throat and her mouth went dry. 

 

Crane, for his part, was having a similar experience. He’d been trying, since she’d walked into his classroom and informed him she was his teaching assistant, to  _ not _ think of the night they’d met. But, try as he might, the memory was difficult to shake, especially at night when he was made painfully aware of how cold and lonely his bed was. He wanted Abbie. There was no question about it. But he knew nothing could happen between them, especially not as long as she was his teaching assistant. But he wanted to know her, however unwise that might be. As he closed his eyes and attempted to push the memory away from the moment, he promised himself that he would follow her lead and not do anything she didn’t want him to.

 

“Trust me, Abbie,” Crane said after he felt the silence between them had gone on long enough. “You need time away from your work.”

 

“What would you suggest?” Abbie asked.

 

He tried to speak a few times, willing his mouth to spit out words that wouldn’t sound so terribly over the line. “Time away from your laptop and outside is known to be extremely helpful. I often visit the Sleepy Hollow City Park on Saturday afternoons with a picnic basket and a book.”

 

Abbie immediately burst out laughing. At Crane’s confused expression she laughed a little harder. “I’m sorry, it’s just...seriously? A picnic in the park with a book is what you do? We read enough books as it is!”

 

Even Crane had to laugh. “We do, yes. But how often do we get to read what we  _ want _ to instead of what we  _ have  _ to? How often do we get to read a trashy bodice-ripping romance novel instead of scouring through old manuscripts and spending hours in stuffy archives?”

 

Abbie smiled as she watched him. “Yeah, maybe you have a point.” She sighed, and this time it was one of relief at having gotten what felt like a boulder off her chest. “I think I can try that sometime.”

 

“Perhaps this Saturday?” Crane replied, only half meaning it as a joke. He watched as the bright smile on Abbie’s face slowly melted into the shy one he himself had worn earlier. 

 

“I don’t see why not.” 

 

They stared at each other for what felt like centuries, both of them laden with uncertainty and excitement and lust and curiosity. 

 

Abbie’s smile grew again as she sat back, relaxed finally. “Yeah, I don’t see why not.”


	4. Chapter 4

_**Happiness does not come from doing easy work but from the afterglow of satisfaction that comes after the achievement of a difficult task that demanded our best.** _

**-Theodore Isaac Rubin**

* * *

 

Saturday came at a snail’s pace. Abbie had been buried grading essays and hammering away at the last chapter in her dissertation. After her meeting with Crane, she’d taken his advice and gotten away from her work for a bit. She and Sophie had a night in watching terrible romcoms and eating more pizza than anyone their age should have. The morning after, Abbie had gone to a cafe on the other side of town in hopes that a change of scenery would help her focus in where she needed to. It had. 

The chapter that had been causing her so much grief came together despite the fact that she had to delete the whole thing and start from scratch. Wiping out those fifteen pages had killed her, but she had been shocked at how easily twenty new pages had come to her. She’d been parked in the cafe from the time it opened until the time it closed, and when she left for the evening she felt excited at how much closer she was to being finished. All that was left was to write her conclusion and she would be able to send the entire thing to her advisor for notes and editing. 

Though Saturday had come after a tiring week, Abbie felt happy as she woke up Saturday morning and got dressed to head to Sleepy Hollow City Park. The weather was cooler than she would have liked, and she opted for a maroon sweater, black jeans, and black boots to shield her from the gusts of wind that would surely send chills over her. She left her hair down and chose big hoop earrings and a light layer of lip gloss that matched her sweater.

“Well, don’t  _ you _ look nice! Doesn’t she look nice, Luke?” Sophie said as Abbie walked into the living room. Luke and Sophie had been binging some show on Amazon about space for the past few days and had set up camp on the sectional in the living room. 

“Soph, she always looks nice. Can we hit play now? The captain dude just got captured by Martians. I need to see what happens!” 

While Luke playfully wrestled the remote away from Sophie, Abbie smiled at her best friend. “I’m heading to City Park for a bit. Dinner later at that Thai place up the street?” 

Sophie laughed as Luke won their small battle. “Sure, sure, sure, Abs, have fun!”

Abbie hurried out before the two of them began doing things she never wanted to see her best friend do in their living room. It usually didn’t take much to get the spark going with those two. 

Half an hour later, Abbie was sitting at the City Park Cafe for a late breakfast. Despite the cold weather, the sky was clear and blue. Already the sun was warming her from the inside out. She sat back and watched all the people arriving at the park. There were mothers with young children, couples, joggers, and the like. She didn’t say Crane just yet but she wasn’t expecting him for at least another half an hour. 

After eating, she ordered a latte and decided a stroll around the park was in order. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been able to do something like this without the specter of her dissertation hanging over her shoulder. Now that she was so close to the end, she felt like she could finally relax. She was finally getting her Ph.D. in Comparative Literature and Cultural Studies. She would be the first person in her family to ever even attend graduate school in the first place. Her relationship with her parents was hardly the best, but she couldn’t wait to tell them when she finally got approved to graduate. 

“Lovely, isn’t it?”

Abbie blinked and looked over to see Crane sitting next to her on the park bench. He was wearing a thick dark grey sweater, dark jeans, and boots the color of his sweater. On top of it all was a black peacoat that fit him impeccably. He was wearing his glasses as always and his short hair was pushed as far out of his face as it could be on a windy day like this one.

He was a decent distance away, and she figured that was probably best for right now, but just like her, he was looking out at all the park goers, his mind miles away.  

“It is,” Abbie replied. “I finally knocked out that last chapter, you know.” 

He smiled at her, pride beaming from him. It made her whole face feel too warm. “As I knew you would. How much is left?”

She shrugged. “Just the conclusion before I send it to my advisor. If it’s not a pile of shit I might even be able to defend it early.” 

The two of them laughed and she took another sip of her latte. “Well, you put it together, Ms. Mills. I highly doubt it could be considered a pile of shit.”

She smiled again. “Maybe not.”

“You know,” Crane said. “I read your thesis on high fantasy and sci-fi and solidarity between people of color as a key determinant of whether a work could be categorized as futurism or not. How did you come to be interested in that?”

Abbie’s eyebrows shot up into her hairline. “Oh, wow, you went way back!” 

Now, it was Crane’s turn to shrug. “I figured if you are to be my TA for the foreseeable future that I should at least know what your previous research has been. And, if I must say so, it was truly captivating. I don’t think I’d ever considered that particular perspective.”

She took another sip of her latte and smiled as she kept on looking at all the park goers. She’d been doing a lot of that since Crane had arrived. “My sister Jenny is a gigantic nerd who made me read all her comic books and sci-fi stories when we were in high school. It rubbed off on me. When I was deciding what to do for my thesis and dissertation this was kind of a no-brainer for me.”

“Well, I have full faith that when your dissertation is complete it will truly be a revelation. Your insights in the poetry class tell me as much. The students learn more when you speak.” Crane replied.

“True,” Abbie pointed out. “Listening to a white dude talk about poetry written by old white dudes  _ can _ get a little boring after a while.”

There was some silence between them as they continued to observe the people around them. The sun was fully out in all its glory now so the wind didn’t feel as harsh against them now. The sounds of children playing and parents talking and people exercising filled their ears. Crane had been right, Abbie realized. Coming to the park was a wonderful way to just disconnect for a bit. She would need to do it more often.

“Ms. Mills, there’s something I’d like to ask you.”

Abbie absently turned to Crane, though her mind was elsewhere. When she was able to focus on him again she realized he was looking at her with such intensity that it might have made someone else flinch.  _ Please don’t be a date _ , Abbie thought.  _ Things are going so well right now! _ She thought Crane was beyond gorgeous. But she’d agreed with him that any kind of relationship between them simply  _ could not _ happen right now. Internally, Abbie had decided that things could be different after she defended her dissertation and actually graduated. For now, she was fine with...whatever this was between them.

“What is it?” Abbie asked.

He gestured for her to stand as he did so and they began to walk on the trail around the park. “I’ve been invited to attend a conference in France next month. Toulouse to be exact.”

Abbie whistled to herself. “France? Jeez, you really are big time.”

“Hardly,” he replied. “But I shall require someone to sub in my place for Poetry 2195 for the week that I will be away. Now, I asked your advisor, Dr. Irving, if he might do it but he is unavailable. He did, however, suggest that I ask you to do it. And I am inclined to agree.”

She felt her eyes widen slightly. It had been a year since she’d been able to teach her own class. The last time, the class had been largely popular with the students. She had missed teaching but had had to focus on completing her dissertation. Now, Crane was presenting her with an opportunity to flex her teaching muscles again. 

“Oh, wow.” It was all she could say at first.

“Does that mean you’ll do it?” Crane asked. “You won’t have to plan anything. I’ll have everything prepared for you in advance and I’ll inform the class that you will be taking my place.”

Abbie smiled and she really felt it. She felt warm. She felt glad that she and Crane had such a great professional relationship and that he was respecting the boundaries they’d both put in place for the time being. More than anything, she was grateful that he was giving her a chance to teach again. For now, she thought, Crane was going to be a damn good colleague.

“Of course I’ll do it!” She stuck out a hand to Crane’s for him to shake. “I can’t wait.”

He took her hand firmly, the same way he might anyone else, but Abbie felt that same jolt she’d felt the first night she’d met him and it made her feel warm all over for an entirely different reason. 

 


End file.
